


breath and blood

by mermaidhanji



Series: mcgenji week 2017 [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blackwatch, Blackwatch Era, Comfort Sex, Domestic, Fingerfucking, M/M, Masturbation, McGenji Week, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Panic Attacks, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Sensory Deprivation, Trans Character, mcgenjiweek17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 15:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12891306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaidhanji/pseuds/mermaidhanji
Summary: Genji felt too much, and not enough. Which was why, in something like delirium, he was rapid-fire knocking at McCree’s door.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sugar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837418) by [AshesNSFW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesNSFW/pseuds/AshesNSFW). 



> sad goths having sex sad goths having sex my muscles my muscles involuntarily flex
> 
> im a day late lol BUT, pls allow me to present day 6's prompt: smoke / steam
> 
> both genji and mccree are trans, language used is dick/cock/etc. they also have differing bodies, cause trans bodies can b different! if u are confused, google is ur friend. also pls note that while i'm trans i'm not transmasc, if any folks who are see smth they wanna correct me on please feel free!
> 
> (also hey if u enjoy sad goths having sex i have [a shitty edgy blackwatch mcgenji fanmix](http://thedreadgay.tumblr.com/post/167321866629/love-sex-death-a-blackwatch-mccreegenji) to convey just that. on top of this fic i'm a fucking connoisseur)
> 
> a short epilogue will be added later today for day 7's prompt! be on the lookout for that, stay safe, enjoy, eat ur vegetables.

Genji swept through the dark hall like a storm. What remained of his skin crawled with dread, his synthetic parts were hardly feeling, and he couldn’t tell which was worse. The whirr of his joints was a grating reminder of everything he’d rather forget, thrumming through the air every time he moved; his breath behind his faceplate was a cacophony, but he couldn’t take it off, it covered the snag in his upper lip that revealed a hint of teeth and the face that was once his pride—

His breath grew louder, and his steps quickened. Genji was only half aware of where his feet carried him, not all in his body, yet trapped there.

_The grace and precision are unequaled,_ investors said at the training demonstration earlier that day, gawking like he was a show. _(The,_ not _his,_ he noticed; he could not own what this body could do.) Genji couldn’t begin to comprehend whatever twisted elegance they saw in him. He was a broken doll haphazardly sewn back together; a shambling corpse. A monster.

He felt too much, and not enough. Which was why, in something like delirium, he was rapid-fire knocking at McCree’s door.

It slid open almost instantly. McCree stood in the doorway in boxers and a tank top; he had dark circles (who didn’t here?), but his eyes were bright and alert. Genji wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep, then.

McCree seemed to relax a little, but before he could get a word out, Genji was pushing past into his small quarters and slamming the door’s close button.

“Jesse.” His hands were on McCree and his gaze was everywhere, frantic. “I need you—“ He couldn’t think with the screaming on and on and on in his head, he gripped McCree’s shoulders for _something, anything—_

“Whoa there,” McCree tried to call through the tornado in him—

But he was breathing too loud and fast and his metal hand could register only a hint of McCree’s shirt and it felt like a knife in his throat, “I need—“

McCree took Genji’s trembling hands. “Settle down, Genji, it’s okay. Breathe with me, alright?”

“I—“ Genji gasped, and he clutched McCree’s hands in a tight grip. “I can’t, it’s too loud but I can’t take it off, I can’t—“

“Shh, it’s alright.” McCree placed one hand on the back of Genji’s neck, grounding. “Would it be better if I didn’t look?”

Genji paused, and gulped in air. He tried to focus on the warm, calloused hand on the back of his neck. “Yes,” he muttered, scrabbling at the back of his head for the release on his faceplate.

“Easy, easy,” McCree lulled him, rubbing his thumb into skin thick with scar tissue. Genji took a shuddering breath. His fingers found the release, and his faceplate fell away with a soft hiss; he let it fall carelessly to the floor. McCree had seen his face many times before—but right now, the thought of eyes on him made Genji want to tear himself apart.

“There.” McCree massaged Genji’s neck, avoiding the ridges at the top of his synthetic spine and keeping his gaze on the door. Genji’s shoulders loosened. “Try breathing with me now; in through the nose, out through the mouth.”

Genji closed his eyes. His fingers knotted in McCree’s shirt and held for dear life as he tried to follow the guidance. If McCree noticed Genji shake, he didn’t say anything, simply maintaining the ebb and flow of their breathing. Genji reined in the need for more, more, more, he was trained for precision, he was rebuilt for—

_No. Don’t go down that path right now. Jesse is here. Jesse is here._ He repeated it like a mantra. _I am here._ Their breath mingled, and he could feel the steady thump of McCree’s heart under his hands. Carefully, eyes still closed, he felt for McCree’s free hand and guided it to his chest. McCree’s palm was so warm against his cool skin, and Genji shivered; the pleasant heat was a relief. The rhythm they built together—lungs and hearts in sync, a sharing of breath and blood—loosened a knot in him. Sure as the ground they stood on, Genji could feel McCree’s heartbeat, and he knew McCree could feel his heartbeat too, pumping strong and alive. It was like a balm on a wound.

With the adrenaline fading, Genji rested his forehead on McCree’s shoulder, ragged and exhausted. “How you feelin’ now?” McCree asked softly. He was letting the rhythm loose, but Genji was calmer now, and fine to feel it drift away naturally. He sighed at McCree’s fingers carding through his hair.

“A little better,” came the quiet, muffled reply. Genji wrapped his arms around McCree’s waist. “Worn.”

“Need water?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw McCree gesture to the water bottle kept on his nightstand. Genji shook his head. “Okay.”

He knew the structure of their panic attack comedown very well by now. _How are you feeling_ was first; _is there anything I can do to help_ came second. _Do you want to talk about it_ was last. And right now, Genji did not have the energy for talking. “Just wanna sleep.”

“Alright. Wanna wear something of mine?” McCree offered with a hint of a smile in his voice. Genji’s lips quirked, and he nodded.

Reluctantly, he slipped out of McCree’s arms, but the hand on his back was soft and steady as he was guided to the bed. McCree turned to his dresser as Genji sat. His stomach roiled at the remaining armor plating his limbs and torso, and he did away with it quickly. The quiet filled with clicks and mechanical hissing, though Genji winced only a little, remembering to breathe in, and out; in, and out, as another plate fell away, and he left it all in a heap on the floor.

McCree wordlessly handed Genji a pair of boxers and a red flannel button up, looking to the side. “Thank you,” Genji murmured as he took the bundle.

“’Course.” McCree’s eyes weren’t on him, but there was tenderness in them that made Genji’s heart flutter. Jesse’s clothes were always a bit big on him, but they were comfortable, and pulling them on brought a sense of security he hardly felt anymore. It was part of their unspoken truth, felt through the brush of skin as McCree scooted to the other side of the bed, and the way Genji didn’t look over his shoulder: he was safe with Jesse. They were safe together.

Genji bunched the shirt’s collar to his nose with a hidden smile, and he could practically feel the question in McCree’s eyes without need to turn. “It smells like you,” he clarified; like smoke, and gunmetal, and Jesse. He couldn’t keep the affection from his tone.

McCree chuckled and leaned forward, kissing the back of Genji’s neck, and he felt more than heard the sweet sigh against his skin. McCree’s hands lingered around Genji’s waist, craving touch, but unsure of the moment’s boundaries. Genji took those hands in his, and wrapped McCree’s arms loosely around his midsection.

They fell on their sides together with a soft thump. McCree drew the sheet over them, leaving his blanket bunched at their feet, then snuggled comfortably against Genji’s back. Genji leaned into it; McCree’s solid warmth against him was like shelter in a storm.

“Try to get some sleep, okay?” McCree’s breath ruffled his hair. Genji nestled further into the pillows and his safety.

“You too.” He saw a sleepless night in McCree’s eyes when he opened the door; Genji hoped he chased away the ghosts like McCree did for him.

He felt a nod against the back of his head. McCree’s strong arms were around him, his thumb brushed over Genji’s knuckle like it always did, and he could feel the steady rise and fall of McCree’s breathing. This, Genji thought as they found their rhythm again, was the safest place in the world.

And with that, he faded into sleep.

 

* * *

 

Soft silence; a warm bed; a secure arm around him, legs tangled together. It was rare that the night was tranquil instead of haunting.

Or the very early morning, rather. Genji blinked slowly, squinting at the digital clock beside the bed. He’d had a few hours of serene sleep, and it was the time caught between night and day when the base was utterly dead. Behind him, McCree mumbled something incoherent, shifting against his back. Genji allowed his eyes to slide closed again.

He drifted in and out of drowsy consciousness, though for once, it wasn’t restless. It was lazy; savouring the semblance of peace, like a boat rolling on ocean waves.

McCree breathed deeply in, and out, fanning over Genji’s neck. His lips found Genji’s shoulder, placing sleepy kiss, and Genji hummed, wordlessly pleased.

“Sorry.” McCree’s voice was scratchy with sleep. “Did I wake you?”

Genji shook his head. “I was already half awake. And I like your kisses.”

McCree tugged Genji’s collar aside to leave a line of slow kisses—from the tip of his shoulder, along his neck, up to the joint of his jaw. Genji found his playful snicker turning to a breathy sigh.

McCree gave the back of Genji’s neck another kiss. “Feelin’ better?”

“Mostly.” Genji paused, twining his fingers with Jesse’s. “The training demonstration today was... awful.” He swallowed. “Not that those pigs were not pleased, quite the contrary—“

He stopped himself. The venom seeping from his words threatened to poison the moment, and Genji deflated instead. McCree squeezed his hand. He was so tired. “It was... just the usual. Aside from that.” Genji squeezed McCree’s hand in return. “You?”

He could feel McCree’s self-deprecating smile against his skin. “Nothin’ gets past you, huh?”

“I think I know you too well for that.”

McCree nodded. He pressed his face to Genji’s shoulder, and held him closer. “The usual for me, too.”

Genji leaned back into the touch, and hoped it was comforting. “And are _you_ feeling any better?”

“Yeah, loads.”

“I’m glad,” he murmured with relief. Genji was content to stay in comfortable silence for a long moment.

“Hey,” he said once it passed, “you can look now.”

Genji rolled over, and in an instant, his lips were on McCree’s. It drew a small, surprised sound from him that melted into their kiss, and he drew Genji closer to his chest. One hand found its way to McCree’s jaw, up to his hair, and Genji played with the strands. He loved McCree’s touch; from his lips, to his hair, to his hand on Genji’s back—

“Jesse.” Genji broke away. McCree blinked, eyes bright; his breath was a ghost of a suggestion over Genji’s lips, and it drew a surge of warmth from him. “When I came to your room...” Genji furrowed his brow, trying to find his words. “I’m sorry for grabbing you like that. Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, hon.” McCree stroked Genji’s scarred cheek. “S’okay, I’m just fine.”

“That’s good,” he sighed. His hand drifted down to McCree’s chest, idly caressing his skin. “I _do_ feel much calmer... and I still want you.”

They both knew Genji had come desperate to feel _something;_ something other than pain. Often, they had quick and easy ways of accomplishing that, but _not_ while one of them was in such an awful state.

McCree bit his lip. “I want you, too.”

Genji gave him a devious little smile, but before he could lean in for another kiss, McCree put a finger to his lips.

“Hold up.” McCree smirked. “I have an idea for you.”

Genji wordlessly quirked one brow, so McCree continued. “How’s about: you lie on your back, close your eyes, and focus on my touch...” He traced Genji’s lips with his fingertips, and Genji plucked at McCree’s collar in anticipation. “Focus on how I’m making you feel; block out everything else. And I’ll make sure you come as many times as you want. Sound good?”

“Yes.” All the air left him as he said it, and Genji rolled onto his back.

McCree climbed atop him, leaning on his elbows. “You let me know if it gets to be too much, alright?”

“I will.” Genji settled his hands on the plane of McCree’s back, fingers grazing up his spine. He loved the shiver it elicited.

“Good.” It came out a hot whisper. “Close your eyes, now.”

Genji let his eyes slide shut. He could feel McCree smile as he kissed his cheek, gentle, then the opposite cheek. Genji’s face felt warm. McCree’s hand found Genji’s hair—his nerves tingled at the subtlety of nails on his scalp—and he kissed Genji’s forehead, the tip of his nose, then his lips.

The kiss was soft at first, and then deepened—not harder, per se, but McCree seemed to pour himself into it. His beard tickled Genji’s face, and he couldn’t suppress a quiet giggle.

“Beard?” McCree pulled away; there was a hint of amusement in his voice. Genji frowned at the loss of contact.

“Yes.” Genji’s hands slid up McCree’s back to his hair, where he tugged insistently. “Keep kissing me.” McCree gave a small, soft moan in response—was it the tug or the demand, he wondered? Probably both. Genji wished he could see how McCree looked above him right now, but he didn’t want to break the trance or the flow of McCree’s plan, so he kept his eyes closed.

McCree wasted no time. He cupped Genji’s cheek and ducked down again, parting their lips; Genji moaned quietly into McCree’s mouth as his tongue slipped inside. He wrapped his legs around McCree’s hips—and took a sharp breath at the growing hardness he felt between them. Genji shifted, trying to get a good angle, grinding for some feeble friction through their heavy kiss—

Until McCree stopped him with a firm hand on his hip, and he pulled away once more. Genji groaned, displeased. “I know, sugar, but just wait,” McCree comforted, rubbing circles into Genji’s hip, “I’ll give you what you want, I promise.” Genji’s bottom lip was tugged between McCree’s teeth; it was his synthetic lip, and it almost made the disgust rise again in his stomach, but McCree’s hard suck sent his creeping thoughts spiralling away. McCree let it go with a wet pop and a nip. “I’m going to make you feel amazing, okay?”

_You already make me feel amazing,_ Genji thought. “Okay,” he replied instead.

McCree gave him one last, lingering kiss, and Genji didn’t want it to end... but then McCree’s lips were at his jaw, down his neck, and a spark went through him. Teeth worried at a sensitive spot on his throat, and Genji’s soft hum of pleasure ended in a gasp when McCree bit down and sucked, hard. Genji pulled at the man’s hair again, and he could feel McCree’s heated breath on his neck. McCree’s fingers slid from Genji’s hip, to his thigh, under the hem of his boxers; the simple graze of fingertips juxtaposed with the vampire kiss was almost intoxicating.

Genji loved the sweet ache that pulsed when McCree broke away for air; thinking of the bruise he would be sporting made him smile, pleased and a little smug. McCree briefly kissed and lapped at the spot, soothing, then continued down. As he nipped Genji’s collarbone, his fingers glided along the man’s shoulders, taking the button up’s collar with him. His lips followed across the scarred expanse, down Genji’s arm; Genji freed his hands and lifted his torso, allowing McCree to ease the shirt off, and he heard the fabric rustle as it was dropped. Lips and teeth ghosted from the crease of his elbow to the delicate skin of his inner wrist, where McCree nibbled and sucked at another spot. Genji shivered, and his hips jerked; the scratch of McCree’s beard, the way he kissed Genji’s palm and each of his fingertips, was a slow, soft intensity. Genji brushed that magnificent mouth with his fingertips, then slid two inside. McCree moaned around his fingers, and Genji could feel it around the wet heat, the press of his tongue—it sent a spike of heat straight to his cock. Jesse was perfect, Genji thought as his fingers were licked and sucked; absolutely perfect. McCree sank his teeth into skin, drawing a gasp from Genji that turned quivery as McCree’s cheeks hollowed. The slow drag of his mouth ended in an obscene sound as he popped off.

“Jesse,” Genji breathed. McCree shifted, the hover of his body over Genji’s familiar and warm. A cherishing kiss was pressed to Genji’s chest, and his heart bloomed. _Do you feel my heart?_ Genji wondered; without thinking, his hand came to rest on the back of the other’s neck. _Do you feel how it races for you?_ McCree rested his forehead on Genji’s sternum, sighing in a way he could only describe as loving—the thought made something beautiful and painful flood through him. _You make me feel so loved._

McCree kissed his chest once more. Then, his tongue dragged to Genji’s nipple, flicking and laving. Teeth teased, lips _sucked,_ his nails scored along Genji’s ribs, at the organic flesh striped between synthetic—and Genji gave a shuddering moan. His legs tightened around McCree, desperate to have him closer. He outright whined at another harsh bite. Fingernails scraped down his sides, and McCree mouthed between his ribs, over his stomach that hitched with bated breaths. At last, McCree hooked his fingers in the band of Genji’s boxers—but eased them down not an inch. He nipped at the jut of Genji’s hip, and Genji’s composure was fraying; he couldn’t help the slight sounds and twitches McCree drew from him. McCree licked slowly, slowly, down the seam of Genji’s hip and thigh, sliding the fabric along at an unbearable pace. Genji gasped as the air hit him, cool against impossibly wet heat. His boxers went down, over his knees, and he was _finally_ free to spread his legs for the man between them. One hand slid beneath his ass, the other holding him still as McCree made another mark on Genji’s slick inner thigh—Genji couldn’t take it anymore.

“Jesse, stop teasing,” came his plea, “I need it. I need you.” Shaky fingers twined in McCree’s hair—and _tugged_ as he licked a long, deliberate line over Genji, up to his dick. Genji tossed his head back with a high moan. McCree hooked Genji’s trembling thighs over his shoulders and grasped his hips in a sure grip, dragging him closer, veritably throwing himself into Genji’s pleasure. He whimpered gratefully: this was what he needed. He needed the swirl of McCree’s tongue and the work of his lips, his nails digging crescents into what flesh was on his hips. Genji couldn’t think with McCree’s mouth on his dick, flicking the head, moaning with a vibration like an electric shock. He was already close from McCree’s drawn out play; Genji pressed his head closer, his thighs clenched, McCree kissed and sucked—

His orgasm snatched him like a tidal wave and swept him up, up, he cried out and ground against McCree’s mouth as he was worked through his peak. Genji trembled as it strung him out, puttering off with choppy whines. McCree let off only when Genji slackened, leaving him panting and floating in a sea of sheets.

“Good?”

Genji hummed his assent. “Incredible.”

McCree chuckled softly and kissed his pelvis; it made Genji smile. He took the time with their pause to massage at McCree’s scalp, soothing all his pulling. McCree sighed appreciatively, and Genji continued his ministrations—but he wouldn’t be still long enough for the sweat to dry. “Again.”

He felt McCree grin, and he kissed Genji’s pelvis once more with heat, trailing fingers up his waist. “I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”

“You are also a man who loves to fucking tease,” Genji quipped. McCree burst out laughing, but quickly quieted himself with a restrained snort, and Genji’s lips quirked in amusement.

“Now, I can’t deny that.” McCree snickered, running his fingertips along Genji’s hipbones and at the creases of his thighs.

Genji sighed in dramatic exasperation. Though still heavy with afterglow, he managed to wrap his legs around McCree again and press his heels into his back. “Just fuck me, Jesse,” he insisted with mirth.

He could hear the grin in McCree’s voice when he said: “You got it, handsome.”

Hot anticipation shot Genji to the core. McCree laid his head on the other’s thigh, and spread him wide. Genji shivered thinking on how he must look: riddled with bites, wet with sweat and cum, laid out for McCree like a gift. With his head still cloudy with pleasure, the mere graze of McCree’s nails up his inner thigh was enough to make him hum deep in his throat.

McCree’s wandering touch settled where Genji wanted it, and he moaned, long and low. McCree rubbed Genji’s cock in slow circles, then stroked up and down the sheathed shaft. Genji’s hips rolled in time, lazy, but yearning. The mingling smell of himself and Jesse hung among the heady haze of sex. McCree’s fingers dipped down—and with a gasp from Genji, one slid inside him. He canted his hips insistently; like hell one was enough. McCree gave a muffled chortle, kissed his thigh, and obligingly added another finger.

A steady pace was set in sync with rocking hips. “Like that,” Genji encouraged breathlessly, high on bliss and climbing higher. McCree pressed an open mouthed kiss to his skin, breathed over his cock; it made Genji whine, especially when McCree rubbed his thumb over the head.

“God, you’re amazing.” His voice was husky against the meeting of Genji’s thighs. He must be _aching_ , Genji thought, and his mouth watered at the mental image of McCree’s boxers straining, how it was pleasuring Genji alone that undid him so.

The way McCree crooked his fingers, pulling more sounds from him, was beautiful. He truly couldn’t shut up now, and he didn’t care if he woke half the base and wrecked his throat; how could he care when Jesse was inside and around him, caressing his thigh and fucking him? Genji writhed and his hands searched for purchase, from McCree’s hair, to the sheets, to the pillow behind him. He bucked, and he _needed._ “Jesse.” His name came out a whimper. “More, I need you, give me something—“

“Hey, I got you,” Jesse whispered. His free hand slid from Genji’s thigh, and he complained at the loss, but McCree found his own restless hand. “Relax, sweetheart, I got you.” Their fingers laced together perfectly, and Genji squeezed. McCree held on just as strong. “I’m not letting you go. It’s okay.”

Genji sank deeper into his ecstasy and the feeling of Jesse. He moaned, loud, as that tongue found his dick again, lapping and rolling to the rhythm of their thrusts.

Genji took a shuddering exhale. “Fuck.” He rutted against McCree’s face, and the man groaned—Genji couldn’t get enough of it. The pace picked up, McCree slipped a third finger inside and fucked roughly, and Genji saw stars behind closed eyes. His mouth was relentless, and he only went harder and faster as Genji’s hips twitched; he shook like there was an earthquake in his bones. He gripped the warm hand in his tightly, the other fisted in the sheets, he was breathing like he was running—his vents popped open and steam poured forth, but it was fine. It was fine, and Genji smiled around his panting, arching his back and basking in his euphoria, because for a split second it was _fine_ , and Jesse was _with_ him, and his heart roared with joy like the fire in his belly.

McCree curled his fingers, and Genji was gone. He utterly blanked in bliss—it took him a moment to register his own shout of pleasure. He was arched so hard his back ached, hair clung to his forehead with sweat and steam, and even with his mouth wide open and panting, he still felt dizzy, because McCree worked him fervently for all he was worth. Genji’s own shaky whine made his hips jerk once more, then with an exhausted sigh, he dropped to the bed, and McCree slowed to a stop.

He pulled out and away gently, and Genji was thankful, sensitive and sore as he was (not that he didn’t love it). He could feel McCree shift, sitting up and setting Genji’s legs down—he frowned when their joined hands broke, but McCree was quick to stroke Genji’s hip in its place. “Too much?”

Through the fog of his afterglow, he somehow managed to fumble for McCree’s hand again, and slur some words together. “No,” he croaked; he really did wreck his throat. “Good. Really good.”

“I’m glad.” McCree brought Genji’s hand to his sticky lips for a kiss.

Genji sighed, pleasantly sated for the moment. “Water?”

“Oh—‘course.” McCree gave another lingering, wet kiss, and then eased Genji further up the pillows. He reached over for the bottle on the nightstand, and held the rim to Genji’s lips as he drank. “Better?”

Genji nodded as McCree pulled back. He made a show of licking water droplets from his lips—the slow inhale it garnered from McCree satisfied him. “Hey...” Genji’s fingers glided up and down McCree’s chest. He was still wearing clothes, and that wouldn’t do. Genji stroked down to the hem of the tank top, with a sharp breath from McCree. “Take this off?”

Genji felt skin under his fingers as the shirt was lifted away, and he heard McCree toss it to the side. He explored McCree’s soft front—every scar was already familiar, but still he loved to run his hands up McCree’s belly, to his chest, tweaking a nipple and earning a gasp. He would never tire of this; and he wanted to see it. “Can I open my eyes?”

“Yeah.” McCree’s voice was strained. “Yeah, go ahead. Go slow, though, don’t overwhelm yourself.”

Slowly, he cracked his eyes open, blinking to adjust to the dim light. It took a moment to focus—but damn, what a sight. McCree was kneeled between Genji’s splayed legs, his lips kiss-swollen and glistening, and eyes half-lidded in hazy desire. He guided Genji’s hand to his other nipple; Genji gave a roll and a jerk, and the whine it elicited was music to his ears. McCree’s boxers were damp and tented, gorgeous.

Genji’s hands moved down, brushing the waistband of McCree’s boxers. “May I?”

McCree took a shuddering breath, and he shifted up, straddling Genji’s hips. “Please.”

And oh, wasn’t that beautiful. Unceremoniously, he tugged the boxers down just enough to slide his hand between McCree’s legs. McCree gripped the sheets, and moaned—he was practically dripping on Genji’s fingers, and his cock was hard and flushed bright.

“Fingers?” Genji trailed up and down beneath McCree’s cock.

He shook his head. “Not tonight.”

Genji nodded, only slicking his fingers, and then wrapped them around McCree’s dick. Shaggy, sweaty brown hair fell over McCree’s eyes as he hung his head, half-moaning, half-sighing in glorious relief. He gave and gave to Genji, and Genji was more than happy to give back. A flicker of heat stirred in him again, but it was overpowered by the sweet twinge in his chest; Jesse was so caring, and Genji loved to care for him, too.

Deft fingers worked with intent. He knew just what McCree liked, and knew how to pick him apart. Genji savoured every sound he drew out, admired the roll of muscle under skin and the slight tremble in McCree’s arms. It was a work of art.

_“Genji.”_ His name came out a whimper; McCree was hunched, shivering, his hips pitching as the speed picked up. “Genj, I’m not—“ he yanked on the sheets and keened as Genji played purposely with the head. Genji smiled innocently, and McCree glared, but it held no venom. “Dirty trick,” he muttered, strained, and Genji couldn’t hold back a short snicker. McCree huffed, but smiled. Genji’s heart swelled. “Not gonna last.”

Genji gripped his hip, hard, and McCree bit his lip. Genji’s soft voice contrasted his erratic pumping; his strength and tenderness, all laid bare for Jesse. “That’s fine. Let go.”

A quavering gasp, another thrust, and McCree was coming hard. He lurched forward, falling to his elbows above the other. Genji drank in the sight: McCree’s eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open, hotly murmuring _Genji, Genji, Genji_ between breaths. He didn’t let up, guiding Jesse through with care—and he smiled, warm and delicate.

With another shudder and an exhale, McCree flopped down onto his side. Genji moved to pull away, but McCree caught his wrist. His eyes bored into Genji’s, he licked his lips, and Genji was breathless. “Don’t stop,” he whispered, leading Genji back where he wanted him. “Please.”

Genji turned to face him fully, captured his lips in a passionate kiss, and got back to work. He could live off the way McCree whined into his mouth. Their tongues twined, sloppy, he could taste himself through McCree’s kiss, and Genji burned with desire. He bit and tugged on McCree’s lower lip, earning him a loud moan. They parted with a string of saliva connecting them.

“Touch me.” Genji hooked his leg over McCree’s hip, making room for him to shove his hand between them and rub circles over his dick. Genji sank his teeth into McCree’s neck, muffling his sounds in giving skin—McCree cried out and bucked hard into his hand. A full body shudder ran through Genji; it was a careful game they were playing, feeling fucked out as he was, but the way his wired nerves jolted like lightning only made him grind harder into McCree’s touch. He wanted to feel spent, again, and again, and again. He sucked harshly at McCree’s neck, intending to leave a matching mark. The thought of a purple bruise peeking above McCree’s collar—a subtle suggestion at the raw passion behind his closed door—was invigorating. McCree’s panting ruffled his hair, and he slid two fingers inside while his thumb flicked, making Genji break away to gasp for air. Still, he couldn’t resist lapping at the mark, at the hollow of McCree’s throat, and he dug into the man’s back for purchase as he pumped faster and met those thrusting fingers halfway. McCree blubbered like he was trying to say Genji’s name, but it was lost in the perfect chaos.

Genji littered McCree’s neck and shoulder with bite marks, he scratched fierce red lines down McCree’s back, up to his nipple where he pinched—and McCree was there, crying out in ecstasy against Genji’s cheek. His hips stuttered, he gripped Genji’s shoulder and rode it out, curling his fingers as he did, and Genji fucked _hard_ into it. McCree loosened up, wound down, and his orgasm faded away with a quiet moan.

Genji let him catch his breath, kissing his cheek and the tip of his nose. Jesse seemed to glow in the honeyed haze of their pleasure; he was utterly stunning, Genji thought. McCree hummed softly, pecked Genji’s lips, and added a third finger.

Their pace carried on, slower at first. Rocking his hips in tandem, his legs tangled with McCree’s and their glazed eyes locked, Genji thought this was paradise; he never wanted it to end. His hand chased after McCree’s, down between them to stroke himself, and McCree watched, enraptured. Between McCree’s doting touch and his own, under the zealous, appreciative gaze, Genji simply melted. He couldn’t string two words together if he tried, and perhaps that was for the best, because his head and heart was a mess of _Jesse, Jesse, I love you, I love you, I love you so much._ Panting, faster, sparks up his spine, he wanted to come again, drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth and he dripped with sweat and steam. McCree went four fingers deep, and Genji could’ve wailed with how good he was fucked open; he grasped McCree’s bicep and rode his fingers with all he had left, working himself faster. It was like teetering at the edge of a drop, toes curled, arms spread wide to embrace oblivion. _I love you. I love you so much. Jesse. I love you. Jesse, oh Jesse, I love you so much, oh—_ please.

And Genji fell. For a moment like eternity, there was nothing in the world but this raw feeling, the breath they shared and the love they made. Whatever shrill sound came from him was swallowed in McCree’s powerful kiss; Genji sank into him willingly, and his only thought was, _Jesse._

It was a slow, delicate drifting down like a feather from the sky. Genji quivered, completely done-in by the sheer intensity. McCree gingerly eased his fingers out, and Genji was glad for the simplicity of McCree’s hand on his hip and their lips just brushing; right now, anything but the lightest touch would be like a firecracker to his nerves. They stayed there while Genji unwound, blocking out everything but the sheets under his palm and Jesse all around him.

“Want water?” McCree rasped after the long, gentle silence. Genji gave a small nod. “Need help sitting up?”

He nodded again, and McCree’s lips left the edge of his own. First McCree sat himself up with a grunt, adjusted the pillows behind Genji, and then strong hands were supporting his back as he lifted himself on wobbly arms.

Genji settled back into the heap. He was absolutely, wonderfully exhausted, and he was content to let McCree lift the water bottle to his parched mouth. A sip turned to chugging; he managed to hold the bottle as he drank his full, and passed it back with a refreshed sigh. Genji watched the pleasing curve of McCree’s throat move with his own draught.

“Let me clean us up.” Leaning heavily on his nightstand, McCree stood on unsteady feet, trying to gather his bearings. Genji’s eyes drooped; his focus drifted in and out as he fought the call of sleep. He soon found McCree back by his side, dampening one end of a towel with water and washing him clean. The relaxing ministrations weren’t helping him stay awake.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.” The words found Genji even through his fatigue. “Then again, you’re cute all the time.” Genji’s most articulate response was a half-hearted noise of complaint, and McCree laughed playfully as he dried Genji off. “You know it’s true, I see that smile.”

He couldn’t help it if Jesse made him smile, he thought. He lazily drew the sheets up and watched McCree clean off, cuddling into the bed. Genji couldn’t keep his eyes open much longer, but he didn’t want to fall asleep until Jesse was next to him.

And then he was, embracing Genji and filling his senses: his scent, his calloused hand on Genji’s back, a slightly crooked nose brushing his. It was perfect.

“Did you like that?” McCree murmured sweetly. Genji closed their miniscule distance, giving him a soft, drowsy kiss.

“I loved it.” He whispered the words against McCree’s lips. Brown eyes met; Genji knew what he meant, and so did Jesse.

“I loved it, too.” Jesse’s hand tangled with his own. Their lips came together again, and again, a barely-there touch that filled Genji with something like joy—and a crushing sorrow.

He wanted to fall asleep next to Jesse every night, and wake up to him every morning. He wanted to free the cry on the tip of his tongue and let it flow between them: _I love you. I love you. I love you, Jesse._ And he knew it like the sky was blue that Jesse loved him, too. It was part of their unspoken truth—but with it came unspoken rules. They both learned the hard way that nothing good ever stayed, so they played a hidden game constructed by the paranoid mind and broken heart.

_Let me be with him,_ Genji pleaded to his own demons and an uncaring universe. _Let me have this, just for a night. At least, at the very least, just for a night._

Genji carried the futile hope with him into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Birdsong glided in through the open window, accompanied by purring at the foot of the bed. He could hear the curtains fluttering in the slight spring wind, carrying with it the smell of wildflowers and grass. It wasn’t chilly; he was still toasty under the handmade quilt, and the sun warmed the fresh air.

He took a deep, drowsy breath, reached over—and found an empty side of the bed, already made.

Genji opened his eyes.

Their bedroom was peaceful as always. Sweetpea had her paws curled beneath her, and her eyes were closed, basking in the sunlight streaming in through the window. She hadn’t woken him to hungry meowing and demanding paws on his face, so she must have had breakfast—and the angle of the light clued him in to late morning. He propped himself up on his elbow, turning to the ledge above their bed with a yawn.

The digital clock read _10:45 am._ Yep, he’d slept in.

Genji exhaled, and slowly scooted up against the pillows. He grabbed the prosthetic arm from his bedside and fixed it into place, wiggling his fingers to wake them up, then did the same for his legs. But instead of getting up, he flopped down next to Sweetpea.

“Good morning, kitty,” Genji cooed, kissing the top of her head. “Where’s Jesse, huh?”

Sweetpea responded by booping her nose against Genji’s, and he laughed—her whiskers tickled his cheeks. He scratched under her chin briefly and stayed a moment, pressing his face into her soft fur; then, with a relaxed sigh, he rolled out of bed.

Genji paused by the open window, leaning on the sill and poking his head out. Long grass swayed gently under a clear blue sky, and the distant little wood rustled in the breeze. Their animals milled about the land: the chickens waddled and clucked, the new piglet tumbled playfully after her mother, and not far off, Genji could spot the pair of horses trotting happily in their field. Sunlight glinted off the metal frame of his greenhouse, and Genji tapped his fingers against the wooden sill, excited. His garden herbs had been flourishing—likely the new fertilizer, he thought—and he would probably need to re-pot them today.

Genji took a deep breath in, and out, savouring the beautiful day and their farmland that teemed with life. He turned from the window with a peaceful smile.

One of Jesse’s flannel shirts still hung from a post of their bed frame, and Genji shrugged it on. He may have missed a button or two, but it didn’t matter. The shirt smelled of Jesse, like leather and the outdoors, and it was cozy enough that Genji could almost imagine he was still in bed. He didn’t bother throwing on anything else, though his eyes found the drawer where his armour was stored. He made a mental note of doing another cleaning and maintenance soon, though it’s not like he needed the plating—just that dust was a pain to remove from the fine inner workings.

Genji scooped the little cat into his arms, resting her paws over his shoulder. “Come on, Sweetpea,” he murmured as he opened the bedroom door, “let’s find Jesse.”

He could pick up sizzling and mumbled singing from the direction of the kitchen. Genji padded down the stairs, and the delicious smell of coffee, eggs, and bacon wafted to him. He grinned, and made his way down the hall unhurried, idly petting Sweetpea’s head. By the archway to the living room, he stopped—the curtains were thrown wide open, illuminating Basil, their spindly old dog, curled up with McCree’s fluffy ginger tabby. Basil’s head was propped on the arm of the couch, dozing, and Miss Catarina rolled lazily onto a throw pillow. Genji chuckled—her tummy fur was sticking up at all angles. It looked like everyone was enjoying the sunshine today.

Sweetpea wiggled in his arms. “You wanna go nap with your sisters?” She meowed back at him, and Genji gave her one last smooch. “Okay, go on now.”

He set the shorthair down, and she strolled over to the couch. Genji left her to it, heading for the kitchen.

 _There he is._ Jesse was standing at the stove in sweatpants and slippers, one hip cocked and foot tapping as he carried a casual tune. His hair was tied up in a small, messy bun, revealing the golden shine of his earring. He looked over his shoulder—and a grin sweet as sugar spread across his face, smile lines crinkling around his warm eyes. Genji loved those lines, and the wrinkles around Jesse’s mouth; they mirrored the touch of grey starting to show at Genji’s roots. They aged well together.

“Mornin’, pumpkin.”

“Good morning.” Genji beamed back at him, walking up and giving him a peck on the lips. He wrapped his arms around Jesse’s waist and kissed the back of his neck, affectionate and apologetic. “It’s kind of late. Sorry I slept in.”

“No worries, I wanted to let you sleep. You seemed pretty tired.” McCree stirred scrambled eggs in the pan; the steaming bacon was already plated. “I took care of everything except the greenhouse; I didn’t wanna mess up your system or nothin’.”

“You’re so sweet.” Genji leaned up and over McCree’s shoulder, planting a kiss on his stubbly cheek. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem.” McCree chuckled, and rested one hand over Genji’s on his front. Genji admired their matching rings side by side, gleaming gold in the morning light. There was quiet between them for a moment, simple and blissful, until Genji hummed thoughtfully.

“I had a dream last night.” He fiddled with Jesse’s fingers. “Well, more of a memory.”

“Oh?” Two pieces of toast popped from the toaster, and Jesse briefly set down his spatula to grab them.

“Yeah.” He propped his chin on his husband’s shoulder. “About our Blackwatch days.”

Jesse paused then, looking back at him in concern, but Genji diffused it with a smile. “Don’t worry,” he reassured, “it wasn’t anything bad.”

Jesse exhaled, relieved. “That’s good.”

“Mmhm.” Genji’s lips found his neck again, and his voice dropped a touch lower. “It was... quite nice, actually.”

Genji met Jesse’s look with mischief and meaning in his eyes, and Jesse raised a brow, smirking. “Oh?” He asked again, huskier.

The smell of burning broke Genji from their reverie. “Jesse, eggs—“

“Shit,” Jesse muttered, turning back to the stove and quickly shuffling the eggs in the pan. He sighed, clicking the element off. “Well,” he said sheepishly, “they’re only a little burnt.”

“They’ll be fine.” Genji laughed, slipping away to grab butter and jam from the fridge while McCree portioned their breakfast. “Sorry I distracted you.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Jesse laughed too, and it filled Genji with warmth like nothing else. He set down the condiments, McCree put the pan in the sink, and they finally converged for a slow, deep kiss. Genji sighed happily, and his hands found McCree’s hips, walking him backwards to the kitchen table.

“Can I make it up to you?” He asked slyly, “And thank you for all your hard work?”

McCree’s hips bumped against the edge of the table. “This is where we eat, Genji,” he chided with a playful grin, but he sat on the surface and spread his thighs invitingly, making a throaty noise when Genji slid between them.

“I know what _I_ want for breakfast.”

Jesse guffawed, throwing his head back. Genji had to press his lips together to control his own laugh. “Oh my _lord,_  that was awful!"

Genji snorted, hard, and then burst into laughter. Jesse was in another fit now, crowing with him. “I learned from the best,” Genji managed to tease between breaths.

“You’re so mean.” It was said in mock offense. Jesse wound down to chuckles, and one hand came to rest against Genji’s cheek. Genji turned and kissed his palm.

“I’m sorry, my heart.” He smiled against Jesse’s skin. The calluses on his hand were from farm work instead of his gun, now. “I love you.”

Genji never stopped saying it. He professed his love every day, ever since they reunited years ago, dashing into each other’s arms in Watchpoint: Gibraltar’s transport bay. _I love you_ finally spilled from his lips and Jesse’s, like it always should have. _I love you,_ they repeated between passionate kisses, _I love you so much._ The beginning of Overwatch’s recall seemed so far away, now that the world was safe again, and their time in Blackwatch even farther. Years ago, Genji never could have fathomed such joy; now, he and his husband had a fixer-upper home in a little patch of countryside paradise.

He knew Jesse was thinking the same thing. He stroked Genji’s cheek, and nudged his face up with fingertips under his chin. Jesse’s smile was utterly radiant; Genji thought he would melt into a puddle of pure love. “I love you, too.” Jesse leaned in, and their kiss was soft and warm as the sunlight through the window. “With all my heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S STILL MCGENJI WEEK HERE I DID IT
> 
> this epilogue is for day 7: fanwork of fanwork! featuring [terry's](https://twitter.com/spacecaptainz) farm au, sweetpea from [nami](https://twitter.com/valuebrandpink), and many other animals and inspiration from the beautiful fic [sugar](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11837418).
> 
> i loved taking part in this week even though i still have more prompts to finish lmao. i'm super tired so if this is sloppy or im forgetting something here that's why lol if things need fixing i'll come back n do it later
> 
> shout out to all my mcgenji pals and everyone who's been supporting my writing!!! thank u all for reading!


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